


in firelight and smoke

by mistrali



Category: Deltora Quest, Rowan of Rin
Genre: Adoption, Crushes, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, M/M, sap
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25332340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistrali/pseuds/mistrali
Summary: Rowan of Rin (and possibly DQ) ficlets for fanfic 100 prompts. To be updated as and when inspiration strikes. Title inspired by Molly Drake’s I Remember.
Relationships: Dain/Lief (Deltora Quest), Ogden & Zeel (Rowan of Rin)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 5





	1. in firelight and smoke

**Author's Note:**

> ‘Zeel’ really does mean waterfall apparently, in several Indian languages. I’ve chosen this because most of the other names in RoR, such as Ogden, are real names which are based on Old English/Germanic words for aspects of the natural world.
> 
> ‘Japa’ also means hibiscus (or mantra) in Sanskrit.

**Fire:**

“The spells may be cunningly concealed, designed to show up after years, when the child is grown,” says Japa suspiciously.

Ogden looks into the toddler’s half-shut eyes, so unusual yet so trusting. Absurd, to suspect a foundling of spycraft. The Zebak would hardly be so astute: after all, for centuries now they have tried land invasions of Rin, and have not succeeded.

But there is the question of how she has survived in such treacherous waters. He puts aside his personal feelings, his desperation for a child - this is, after all, his tribe, and a lapse of judgement now might mean a price paid in Traveller, Rin and even Maris blood.

He takes a deep breath before stoking the small fire with crushed laurel and bay leaves. Show me what you are hiding, he thinks, concentrating with all his might on the swirling smoke. Show me your secrets.

To his private relief, the fire remains orange, and the smoke unfocused. Nor is there any response to his mental search, except that the girl begins to squirm and whimper in her sleep.

“I have checked her twice over for every possible Zebak magic and found none,” Ogden murmurs, when he is sure. “Besides, I cannot explain how, but I feel she is sound.”

* * *

**Hours:** Within three hours after the augury, the foundling’s ridged brow, light brown hair and pale face, which so mark her as Zebak, have been festooned with bright marigolds, smeared with cedar paste and kissed and cooed over by every adult in the tribe, until she is almost indistinguishable from any other Traveller child.

* * *

**Water:** “Zeel,” says Stellan. “Her name shall be Zeel, waterfall, for the water that bore her to us.”

 **Thanksgiving:** As the tribe sings the child’s name over the roaring blaze, to welcome her into the family, Ogden is too overcome to chant with them. He can only give mute, tearful thanks to fate for his little pale-eyed daughter, so unexpected and so precious.


	2. two by two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve tried to couch ‘non-binary’ and ‘aspec’ in Roddeian/Rowanverse terms. It isn’t intended to come off as though these groups don’t exist, but I can’t explain it better than that.

**Why?:**

“Ogden,” asked Annad, tugging on Jonn’s hand as he gathered blue hoopberries into a basket for the Travellers. She had entirely lost her shyness in front of the storyteller who told such enchanting tales before the campfire. “Why do you not have a wife? Mamma’s husband is Strong Jonn, and Bree is married to Hanna, and Timon is married to Rosa…”

“Hush, Annad,” said Jonn, blushing scarlet and glancing at Ogden. “Run and fetch some more baskets for these berries. And it is not polite to ask such questions. Ogden, I am sorry.”

Ogden knew that in Rin, unmarried adults were rare, and remained at the outskirts of village life, unless they were retired like old Lann. He thought of taciturn Bronden, Neel the Potter, with superstition colouring all his dealings — and of Sheba the Wise Woman, whom some called witch. Even Rin children had learnt to expect marriage, and thought it usual to pair off.

Travellers were called Slips partly because they took lovers (male, female or those who did not fit either sex) for a week, a season or their whole lives. Some took none at all, for they found no one who suited or attracted them, and did not desire to be partnered; Ogden was one of these.

“Peace, Strong Jonn of the Orchard,” he said, smiling, as Annad skipped away to the storeroom. “I have had enough curious young ones of my own that I am used to questions — and besides, Travellers do not believe in concealing answers from children for the sake of propriety.” He smiled, a little ruefully. “The truth is, I suppose, that I have simply not found someone I wish to marry.”


	3. reciprocation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the two people reading this - sorry, I suck at romance.

**Writer’s Choice:**

“You care much for Jasmine, I think,” said Dain quietly, his voice pitched even lower than usual, so as not to wake the other two, and so they could listen for any approaching Ols in disguise.

He was looking away from Lief, at where Jasmine and Barda lay sleeping in their bedrolls on the other side of the banked fire. Lief had taken the first watch and Dain, claiming he could not sleep, had sat up with him.

“Why should I not care for her?” Lief asked, dumbfounded. “We have travelled together for months. She has saved my life many times, and I hers…”

It occurred to him that this was not precisely what Dain had meant. He trailed off in confusion, hot with embarrassment, and pretended to be rummaging through his pack to avoid Dain’s eyes.

“I am sorry,” said Dain. “I should not have pried.” His fair cheeks had flushed crimson; long lashes hooded his eyes as he gazed into the fire. “Only, it is no secret,” he said sullenly, “the way she looks at you.” 

Lief could not ignore his prickling sense of unease: all his senses seemed heightened. What was Dain up to? In the three nights since joining the companions he had seemed eager to reach Tora, but Lief had not realised he was observing their trio so closely. It was not Dain’s business what was between himself and Jasmine.

Yet why should he not be observant? Lief chided himself. He is alone and unarmed. He did not become a Resistance fighter without using his eyes and his wits to keep him alive. For all he knows, we might have been replaced by Ols in the night.

“There - there is one other thing I have not told you,” whispered Dain. He bit his lip and steepled his long delicate fingers in his lap.

Lief’s spine tingled. In the moonlight, cloaked by darkness and without Jasmine’s tree-sense to warn them of intruders, he felt very vulnerable. Evidently Dain was about to reveal something about his past, one of the closely guarded secrets that gave him such an air of mystery. Almost Lief felt for the Belt at his waist, such was his nervous anticipation. He closed his eyes and pictured the gems in his mind: the bright topaz, stone of faith, the ruby for happiness, the opal for hope, the lapis lazuli, recovered at such peril from the Hive, the emerald from Dread Mountain. 

Lief opened his eyes. Dain was looking at him curiously. “Lief? Are you ill? I have some willow bark in my pack — ”

“I am sorry,” said Lief quickly. “I am just tired. All this talk of Ols has made it hard to sleep. What did you have to tell me, Dain?” 

The boy looked up at him, eyes burning. “Jasmine... is not the only one who harbours such feelings towards you,” he breathed. With unearthly swiftness he darted forward and pressed his lips to Lief’s.

Lief gasped; euphoria surged through him, almost in a current. It was not unlike drinking Queen Bee Cider, he thought in helpless wonder, as he pulled Dain closer. 


End file.
